


Make It Real

by RosiePaw



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosiePaw/pseuds/RosiePaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Posted for <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/collections/mcsheplets_challenges">McSheplets</a> Challenge #65: Don't Ask, Don't Tell</p>
    </blockquote>





	Make It Real

**Author's Note:**

> Posted for [McSheplets](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/mcsheplets_challenges) Challenge #65: Don't Ask, Don't Tell

Team Sheppard came in hot, tumbling through the Stargate and across the gateroom floor.  They were battered, bruised, bleeding – and apparently, in mid-argument.

“...doesn’t make it my fault just because a group of primitives decides to inflict their religious beliefs on –“

“This isn’t about religious beliefs, McKay!” Sheppard snapped.  “It’s about you unnecessarily creating a situation which led to the entire team getting chased back to the Gate –“

“Oh, please, as if you and Ronon don’t run longer distances every morning for what you consider to be ‘fun’!  If anyone gets to complain about running for the Gate –“

“Leave me out of this, McKay,” growled Ronon.

“Ronon and I don’t have people shooting arrows at us during our morning runs and no, you do _not_ get to complain because –“

“Colonel, what part of ‘not my fault’ are you failing to understand?  _I_ was doing my job.  _Your_ job is to protect me while I do it, and ‘protecting me’ does _not_ include subjecting me to –“

“A ritual you’ve already submitted to dozens of times before in similar situations, McKay?”

“Colonel Sheppard?” Woolsey attempted to interject.  Teyla got to her feet and began to head in McKay’s direction.

“Which does _not_ obligate me to submit to it _every_ time or give you the right to assume I will do so, Colonel!”

“_Colonel Sheppard._”  A firmer tone and a slight increase in volume on Woolsey’s part finally got Sheppard’s attention – but not McKay’s.

“Furthermore, there’s been a recent change in operating conditions that – hey!“

Teyla didn’t release her firm grip on McKay’s shoulder.  In fact, she might have shaken him slightly as she nodded calmly at Woolsey.

“Colonel Sheppard, it looks as if your team will need to visit the infirmary before debriefing?”

“Yeah, but we don’t have any serious injuries.  1630?”

“That will be fine, Colonel.”

“Thank you, sir.”

By now three quarters of Team Sheppard were back on their feet, with McKay still sitting on the floor fussing with his scanner.  Sheppard glared at McKay a moment longer before crossing the floor to offer the scientist a hand up.  McKay glared right back – and then accepted the hand.  Possibly because Teyla was still standing right behind him.

Woolsey wondered how much – if any – of the real story he’d get during the debriefing.

***

“Lorne, is it just me, or has there been an increase in paperwork lately?”

“Can’t say I’ve noticed an increase, sir.  Maybe some extra requests for shared quarters, changes to next-of-kin, that sort of thing.”

“Which is pretty much what we expected.”  Sheppard initialed a few more screens.  Never enthusiastic about paperwork, he seemed particularly distracted today.  Lorne decided to do some fishing.

“So, sir, PX7-183’s a write-off?”

Sheppard’s eyebrows rose.  “I wouldn’t say so.  They’ve got trade items we could use.  I figure we send a different team back to apologize.  Yours, for example.”

“No problem, sir.  Although it would help if I knew what to look out for.”

“Just don’t let any of your scientists try to check out the energy readings in the big, ornate temple near the marketplace.”

“Aha.  Dr. McKay, sir?”

“He was following the readings, I was following him.  Turns out the temple’s sacred to the goddess of marriage and domesticity.  Off limits to everyone except happily married couples.”

“That’s when things went to hell, sir?”

“Nah.  Teyla did her thing, got the High Priest to agree to let us ignorant off-worlders make amends by getting married on the spot.  _That’s_ when things went to hell.”

Lorne frowned.  “Sorry, sir, I don’t get it.  Your team holds the record for off-world marriages.”

“I didn’t know anyone was keeping score, Major.”  Sheppard’s tone was dry.

“For a while now, sir.  You and Dr. McKay are in the lead at 42 for the two of you alone.  56 including the two of you plus Ronon, Teyla or both.”

“I see.  And you and Parrish...”

“Are catching up, sir,” Lorne shot back with a grin.  “My point is, I would’ve thought that by now you and McKay had the marriage thing down to a routine.”

“Fine, tell that to McKay!  For some reason he decided to balk this time.” Sheppard frowned at the form currently occupying his screen.  “Why is Phelps requesting transfer back to Earth?”

“He’s having a hard time adjusting to the new regs, sir.”

“The same regs are now in effect on Earth, Major.”

“Yes, sir.  But at least on Earth he won’t be serving on the same base as DeCarlo and Fawcett.”

“Phelps has a problem with DeCarlo and Fawcett.”

“They were in the mess when they heard about the new regs and their, uh, personal celebration got a little out of hand.”

“And Phelps was present.”

“Claims to be scarred for life, sir.”

“Any other fallout?”

“No, sir.  Mess hall staff disinfected the table.”

“I see.”  Sheppard initialed the transfer request.  “That the last of it, Major?”

“For now, sir.  And about PX7-183?”

Sheppard waited.

“Parrish and I could check out the energy readings?”

“Better get Parrish’s okay on that first.  I’m still trying to figure out why McKay...”

 “Sir?  Maybe you need to ask him?”

***

2145 found John standing in front of Rodney’s door.  He figured this was a bad time to ask Atlantis to just let him in.  When Rodney finally opened up, John displayed the six pack he’d traded for.  “Mind if I come in, McKay?”

“Well, seeing as how you brought beer...  Quidi Vidi Brewery?”

“I got it from one of the other Canadians.  One of the ones who doesn’t sound like you, but not French Canadian.  If it hadn’t been for his flag patch, I would’ve thought he was Irish.”

“Canadians are a diverse people, Colonel.  Here you go.”  Rodney handed John a beer, then sat down on the bed with his own.  After a moment, John sat down next to him.  If Rodney didn’t move any closer, at least he didn’t move away.  They sipped in silence which Rodney, of course, was the first to break.

“Very nice.  Now, let me guess.  Teyla told you to talk to me.”

“Lorne.”

“Huh.  Why are you here, then?  It’s not as if he’s going to hit you with sticks.”

“No, but he can refuse to keep doing my paperwork.”

“Good point.”

More sipping followed.

“You know, Sheppard, talking usually involves words.”

“Yeah, but I was hoping you’d already figured it out.  Being a genius and all.”

Rodney glared.  John pouted.  Rodney glared harder.  John sighed.

“Okay, okay.  Uh – why not this time?”

“Now _that’s_ articulate phrasing!”

“I mean, what was different?”

“Think about it, Sheppard.  What’s changed recently in our lives?”

“The _Daedalus_ finally brought new boots my size?  Ow!  Geez, McKay, head thwaps aren’t supposed to give the other guy a concussion!”

“Oh, please, as if you even felt it through all that hair!”  But Rodney was smiling now.  John felt absurdly relieved.

“Okay, I’m guessing that this has something to do with the repeal.  Beyond that, you’re gonna have to help me out, buddy.”  John caught Rodney’s eye and waggled his eyebrows invitingly as he wrapped his mouth around the neck of his beer bottle.

“I’ll help you out all you like _after_ we’ve finished this discussion,” snarked Rodney, but he was definitely flushing a bit as he watched John swallow.

“No, really, I don’t get it.  Off-world marriages weren’t a problem even _before_ the repeal.”

“Because they’re not considered to be ‘real’ marriages.”

“Yes!” John gestured triumphantly with his bottle, but Rodney was still waiting for something.  “Uh, no?”

“John, do you remember what you said on PX7-183?  When the High Priest told us we’d have to get married?  You turned to me and said, ‘Well, buddy, looks like we’re taking it for the team one more time.’”

“Yeah, and _you_ said, ‘Not today, I’ve got a headache.’  Which is when the bows and arrows and swords came out.”

“My _point_ is that if there was a Nobel Prize for lame marriage proposals –”

“Rodney, that’s _not_ what I’d say if I were _really_ asking you...  Oh.  Uh, did you want me to?”

“Did you want to?” asked Rodney.  He kept his eyes steadily on John as he sipped his beer.

No, thought John, but he knew that saying it that bluntly would end badly.  He searched frantically for different words.  Not now?  Not yet?

“Didn’t think so,” said Rodney flatly.

“Look, it’s not – it’s not even about us.  It’s just – the last time I was married it didn’t go so well.”

“And I’ve never even gotten _that_ far.”

John wasn’t sure how to take that remark at all, but then Rodney huffed, gave him a crooked smile and slid a little closer.  John slid the rest of the way and there they were, shoulders and thighs pressed against each other, close enough that John could smell Rodney’s shampoo.  He put his bottle down, got hold of Rodney’s bottle and set that out of the way as well.  If he leaned sideways a little – and didn’t Rodney have nice shoulders for leaning on? – and turned his head, he could rub his nose in Rodney’s soft hair.

“I’m not saying I want to, John.  Maybe we never will.  We’d have to think about it first.  Talk about it.”

John paused.

“Or _I_ could talk and _you_ could do things with your eyebrows, I’m getting pretty good at reading those.”

Reassured, John gave Rodney’s ear a nip in agreement, then nuzzled the spot to soothe it.  Rodney smelled amazing.  Rodney _was_ amazing.  It was amazing that he _got_ John, seemed to hear the words John couldn’t say.  It was amazing to John that Rodney McKay, famously impatient with morons, ranted and raved at “moronic military regulations” and yet had, for so very long, put up with the subterfuge necessary for him and John to be together.

“But here’s the thing: if we _did_ want to, we could.  For real.  I mean, your government wouldn’t _recognize_ it, but at least they wouldn’t _punish_ you for it.  I’m – okay, wait, god, _stop_ that, wait one more moment, can you? – I’m tired of hiding and pretending.  And we don’t need to anymore.  So if we ever get married again...”

“You want it to be real,” John breathed.  He had one leg slung over Rodney’s thighs to keep Rodney in place and both his hands fisted in Rodney’s shirt to keep himself from floating away and wait, there was something wrong with his logic there, but right at this moment he didn’t care.

“We _deserve_ real,” said Rodney, and he pulled John’s mouth down for a kiss.


End file.
